


Well, That Was Unexpected

by MerHums



Series: The Grand Scheme of Things [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alpha Greg, Alpha John, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Bonding, Developing Relationship, Family Reunions, Humor, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Mycroft, Omega Sherlock, Omega Verse, Schmoop, Surprises, Tropes, Virgin Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-27
Updated: 2015-09-27
Packaged: 2018-04-23 16:49:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4884325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MerHums/pseuds/MerHums
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John and Sherlock go to the country to announce their engagement and bond to the family. Unfortunately, they aren't even dating...yet.</p><p>Meanwhile, Greg and Mycroft have secrets of their own and Mummy is more than aware of the alpha lurking in the garden. Let's just say with a house full of Holmes, nothing goes as expected. Just one bit of advice. Stay away from Aunt Lilah.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Well, That Was Unexpected

John was smiling as he stepped in the doorway of 221B Baker Street. “Sherlock? You home?” He called, slipping his shoes off He looked up as Sherlock came down the hall.

“John.”

“Hello, Sherlock. Everything all right?”

“Not quite,” Sherlock replied gravely.

**

“So you’re telling me that your entire, extended family is going to be there. And every single one of them is expecting us to announce our engagement? Sherlock, we aren’t even dating! What the hell were you thinking? How did this happen?”

“Mummy,” he said simply.

“Mummy? What the buggering fuck is that supposed to mean? Mummy made you do it!?” John snapped. 

Sherlock turned away from him, blush just barely tinging his cheeks. “It’s not proper for an omega and alpha to live together as we do. So Mummy made the announcement.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. I leave during your heats, nothing happens!” John groaned. “Is there anything, Sherlock, anything at all,” He said, setting his head in his hands, “That would get us out of this?” 

“I’m afraid not, John.” Sherlock kept examining the wallpaper. He could smell John, but then again, he always could. He got to him in a way no other alpha ever had.

"Right. Fine. So we're going. Any chance we can break up once we're there?" John muttered. "Some terrible offense I can commit to free us?" 

“Would you want to?” Sherlock asked before he could catch the words back.

“Of course, Sherlock. I’m not going to let them force you into a bond with me just because we live together.” John shook his head and stood. “I’m going to go shower and pack. Can you call the clinic, and deduce one of the other doctors to take my shifts? Ta.” 

Sherlock watched him go up, sighed and went to make the call for John.

**

“You’re joking. This can’t be the place, I’ve met your parents. They live in a tiny cottage. Your mum’s an academic for god’s sake,” John muttered stepping out of the passenger door. Sherlock stepped out of the drivers side, the omega stepping from foot to foot nervously as they looked up the drive. “This is a bloody manor, Sherlock,” John continued, fetching the bags from the boot. “Why didn’t you warn me? I’ve only packed jumpers!” 

“You’ll be fine,” said Sherlock with more confidence than he felt.

“Sherlock, do not let me embarrass myself, please. That’s all I ask.” 

“You never could.” Sherlock reached over to take his hand a moment before the front door opened.

“John! Sherlock!” Mummy said, beaming at them. The alpha came down the steps, gathering them both in a crushing hug. 

Sherlock tolerated it for a few few brief moments, then pulled away. “Thank you for having us, Mummy.”

“Oh, my little boy is going to be bonded, of course I’d have you!” She grinned, and led them into the house. “Everyone is here already, you’re the last to arrive.” 

John blinked as he walked in, following them, only to be greeted by a wall of sound. Holmses, everywhere. An entire ballroom full of well dressed, well spoken family members, all looking at him. He felt a bit lightheaded, stretching a hand out to Sherlock.

Sherlock took it and held him close. “It’s been a long journey Mummy, may we retire and freshen up?”

“Go on. You’ve got great-uncle Myrtle’s room.”

Sherlock led John away from the hubub and up to the bedroom they’d be sharing. He guided John to sit on the bed and opened the window, looking at him with concern.

“Jesus, Sherlock, there must have been a hundred people there!” 

“I do have a fairly large extended family.” Sherlock went to the closet and picked out a few things he knew would fit John. Of course Mummy had prepared for them.

“Oh my god.” John groaned, burying his head in the bed. “They’re all going to hate me.”

“No they aren’t.” Sherlock hesitated, then came and sat next to him, rubbing his back, resisting the urge to nuzzle against him. “I’ve seen you face down much more terrifying people then Aunt Lilah Grovner.”

“Who comes up with these names?” John muttered, wondering at how Sherlock was petting his back. It felt nice, and more than a little bit distracting since he knew there wouldn’t be anything else coming afterwards, no matter how much he might actually want Sherlock. “Besides, they might like me at first, but I’m going to have to “break your heart”. I won’t win any popularity contests after that, and I’m more than afraid of what your mother will do to me.” 

“Do you have to, though?” asked Sherlock. “Break my heart, I mean.”

John rolled over to look at him. “Sherlock? You don’t honestly want them to think we’re going to bond do you? It’s ridiculous. I know you don’t want a bond.” 

Sherlock blushed again. Damn transport. His hand was still on John’s skin and he found himself loathe to move it.

John glanced down to where Sherlock’s hand was resting on his hip, long fingers just brushing against his thigh. He willed his cock to remain still, and looked up at Sherlock, who had an odd look on his face, cheeks flushed. “Sherlock? You don’t...want a bond right? You said so the first night…” 

“I’m fully aware of what I said that first night. That was months ago now, though, John and…” Sherlock swallowed hard.

“And, Sherlock?” John questioned, sitting up. It would be ridiculous to think, to even guess at what the next words out of Sherlock’s mouth would be, even if he wanted them so desperately to be a matching idea to his own. “Go on, it’s fine, whatever it is.” 

“I may not be so married to my work as I thought,” he said quietly, unable to meet John’s eyes.

“Hhh…” John blinked, letting a questioning breath escape him. “You...Sherlock, really?” 

Sherlock nodded, slowly withdrawing his hand, breathing in John’s scent. “If you don’t want…”

“No, Sherlock. If you wanted to give it a go, I’d be more than happy to.” John blurted out, reddening. “I mean, if not that’s fine, but I don’t want to push you into anything. Not to satisfy them,” he gestured toward the door. “This has to be because we want it or else, it’ll ruin everything.” 

“It is, John. What I want.” Sherlock was chewing on his fingers a bit.

John smiled, and tugged his fingers away, holding his hand. “Me, too.” 

“I’ve never, John…”

“It’s fine, Sherlock. We’ll work through it,” John said softly, shifting closer. “We just have to make it through this weekend.” He groaned, and met Sherlock’s eyes. “Sherlock, tell me the truth. Are your family members vampires, out to take over Britain?” 

Sherlock blinked. “What?”

“Never mind, it’s a television show. I’m sure they aren’t. Well, maybe Mycroft,” John sighed, and squeezed his hand. “Sherlock, I need to know how much you’re comfortable with. Like, showing affection in front of your family. “

“I don’t know. It will be expected.” 

“Yeah, but when have we ever done anything that was expected?” John smiled, still holding his hand. “We’ll just test out the waters a bit, yeah?” 

“Okay.” Sherlock hesitated, then leaned in to scent John.

John let something of an encouraging purr escape him as he tipped his head back for Sherlock, raising a hand to twine in his curls. “All right?” 

Sherlock nodded, knowing he was giving off pheromones of his own.

“Come here,” John said after a bit, pulling Sherlock’s curls gently to allow him to nuzzle into his neck and scent the omega. “You’ve always smelled so good.” 

“You as well,” said Sherlock softly.

John pulled away with a smile. "Are we ready to head back down?" 

Sherlock curled into him. “We don’t have to yet.”

"A lie in sounds nice." John smiled and tucked his arm around Sherlock. "Long as no one thinks we're up to something." 

“Even if they do, we’re here to announce our engagement, yes?”

"True, but I don't know if I'd be able to meet your family, knowing that everyone thinks we've been shagging in Aunt Myrtle's old room." 

“Great-Uncle Myrtle. And half of them will already assume so.” Sherlock bit his lip. “If you don’t want to…”

“Nah, I want to Sherlock. I’d just rather your first time be when your entire family isn’t listening at the door.” John leaned his head down, brushing a kiss over Sherlock’s brow. He paused for a moment before moving lower, pressing his lips gently to Sherlock’s. 

Surprised, Sherlock found himself chasing the kiss, wanting more.

John hummed, deepening the kiss, tilting his head as he licked at the crease of Sherlock’s lips.

Sherlock parted his lips, opening his eyes to watch John.

John met his gaze, smiling against his mouth as he pulled away a bit. “All right, Sherlock?” 

“Good,” he mumbled, reaching up to stroke John’s cheek.

“We’ll have to practice. See if we can get that ‘good’ to ‘excellent’,” John chuckled, nuzzling against his hand. “Think of it as an experiment.” 

Sherlock’s eyes brightened. “Okay.”

John chuckled again, and stole another kiss. “How long until dinner, d’ya think?” he murmured. 

“A few hours yet.”

“Will they come up and fetch us, or will we be left alone until dinner?” John asked, moving his mouth to Sherlock’s jaw. 

"We should be alone."

"Then let's get a head start on that experiment, yeah?" 

"Please," whispered Sherlock, uncertain what to do with himself, lungs full of John's scent. 

"Relax, sweetheart," John murmured. "Just kissing, you're already doing well. Let me have your hand," he said, holding out his as he shifted to lean over Sherlock.

Sherlock gave it to him watching with bright eyes. 

John smiled and guided Sherlock's hand to his side. "Touch me wherever you like. I'm going to kiss you while you do it. And we're going to stay here, until they come drag us down." 

Trembling, Sherlock ran his hands down John’s sides, moaning softly as he was kissed again.

"That's it," John murmured. "You're going to be so good for me aren't you? When I get you spread out beneath me, wanting and needy while I touch every inch of you." 

“I want you,” whispered Sherlock, feeling his control crashing apart.

"Not yet, sweetheart," John purred, kissing the base of his neck. "After this weekend, whenever we're alone. I want you, too." 

Sherlock mewled like a kitten and offered his throat.

John scraped his teeth lightly over the skin. "So pretty, Sherlock." 

Sherlock’s small cock was already full and straining. “J...John..” He started rocking his hips against John’s leg.

"Not yet, love," John said, nipping a mark into Sherlock's collar. "You want it, don't you? My hands all over you, touching you. My cock deep inside you, filling you up. Pumping you so full your belly swells up and you whine for more," John continued, pressing his leg against Sherlock's groin. "Such a gorgeous boy, pretty omega." 

Sherlock groaned and rocked harder, seeking friction and release, hands skidding down John’s back, fumbling for skin.

"Are you going to come for me Sherlock? Without me even touching you?" John asked, petting his hair as he laid kisses over Sherlock skin. "Dirty boy, going to come in your pants? That'll be so hard to explain won't it? You're so responsive sweetheart, like a dream..." John claimed his mouth again, letting Sherlock rut against his thigh. 

Sherlock was lost in the sensations. Nothing had ever felt like this. It was like a bomb, ready to explode. And then it did, he muted his cry as he came by burying his head against John’s shoulder.

"Sshh, that's it. Feels good doesn't it sweetheart?" John murmured, running his fingers through Sherlock's curls. "We can sit here a bit, but we'll have to clean you up before dinner, all right?" 

Nodding, Sherlock curled up against him, feeling light, smelling John’s arousal. Fumbling, he reached to stroke his cock through his pants.

"You don't need to do that, sweetheart," John mumbled, "I'll keep." 

“Are you sure?” Sherlock watched him, feeling the wetness soaking up in his pants.

“Yeah. Come on, let’s get you fixed up.” John shifted off the bed with a slight groan, pulling Sherlock after him. “En suite, very fancy,” he grinned, backing them in. “We’ll have to make use of that at some point,” he said, gesturing at the tub. “For now, a shower.” In quick movements, he stripped Sherlock down, kissing his chest as it was revealed.

Sherlock shivered a bit. He normally didn’t have a problem with nudity, but suddenly it seemed almost impolite.

“What’s with the tremble, sweetheart?” 

“It’s just...different.”

"What's different? Us?" John asked, removing his shirt. 

Sherlock nodded, admiring John’s body as he often did.

"How, love?" John asked, stepping out of his trousers and pants, and leaning to turn on the shower. He hummed at the warm streams of water and stepped in, holding a hand out to Sherlock.

Sherlock took it and leaned against him. “You’re my alpha, now.”

"Yeah," John said, wrapping him in his arms. "And? I take care of you, make sure you eat and sleep. How's that anything different from before?" 

“Do you want pups?”

“I’d like pups. But not right away, and not unless you want them, love.” John reached out, soaping a flannel. He reached down, wiping soapy circles over Sherlock’s belly. 

Sherlock found himself purring at the attention, relaxing into John.

John smiled at him, dropping his hand lower cleaning over his sticky hips and cock, swiping the flannel gently. “Don’t fall asleep on me, Sherlock,” John warned, pressing a kiss to his neck. 

“I won’t.” He could feel John’s still hard cock behind him.

“Good. Now, duck down so I can do your hair, love.” Sherlock obeyed, John working his fingers carefully through the curls, even though they didn’t need done. When they finished, Sherlock stood up, but John dragged him back down, kissing him again. “You really are something brilliant, Sherlock.” 

“I’m so glad for you, John.”

“Glad for me?” John asked, stepping out. He fetched one of the fluffy white towels from the sink, gave himself a cursory wipe and beckoned Sherlock out.

“You make me better.”

“Glad you have me, hmm? That’s alright Sherlock. I’m glad for you too.” John murmured, wrapping him up in the towel. “Now, we’re going to have to dress for dinner, aren’t we?” 

“Yes. There are clothes for both of us in the closet.”

“Of course there are,” John muttered. “Mummy?” 

“Naturally.”

“Right, come on then. You’re going to help me,” John said, smiling and tugging Sherlock’s hand gently.

Sherlock helped him pick out a suit and tie, then got on his own. Just as they finished there was a knock on the door.

“Yes?” John called out, making eye contact with Sherlock and trying not to laugh.

“Dinner is nearly ready,” said Mycroft’s voice.

“We’ll be just a minute, Mycroft.” John called back. “You know how it is, long journey, very tired.” 

“Indeed,” he said dryly as possible.

John held back a snort. “See you at the table, Mycroft,” he said, dismissing the man and turning to Sherlock. “Ready, love?” 

“Yes. I do believe I am.” Sherlock took his arm.

They opened the door and made their way down the stairs, John trying not to panic as they swept into the dining room and the conversation ceased, to allow a round of applause. “You’ve got to be joking,” John muttered as they sat down near the head of the table. “Clapping? Really?” 

Sherlock shrugged, blushing slightly. “They’re happy for me.”

“Mycroft looks...unnerved?” John murmured after a bit. “Is there something going on with him?” 

“Not that I know of.”

“Hmm. Can’t you deduce it?” John teased, picking up his fork. “Eat something, Sherlock, I know you haven’t all day.” 

Sherlock took the offered bite and studied his brother who was studiously engaged in conversation with a cousin. He knew Mycroft better than anyone, and he was trying figure out what could possibly be the problem.

“Sherlock, eat. Leave Mycroft till tomorrow,” John said, nudging him gently. “There will be dessert later if you finish your plate.” 

“Very well.” Sherlock gave John a smile and proceeded to finish eating.

After dinner they all retired to the ballroom. Sherlock found himself uncomfortably thanking everyone for their congratulations.

John was hovering close to Sherlock, trying to remain calm and definitely not snap at Aunt Lilah Grovner as she bombarded him with advice. 

“Yes, Ms.Grovner, of course, Aunt Lilah sorry. No, I don’t think Sherlock and I will be having any sort of formal bond mark presentation.” John caught Sherlock’s eye, begging for help silently. 

Sherlock moved to his side and took John’s arm. “I need some fresh air, John.” He lead him out to the balcony only to spot the far too familiar shape of Mycroft slipping out into the gardens. “What is he up to?”

“I don’t know,” John replied, craning his neck to look. “I think he’s...with someone?” 

**

Mycroft growled a bit as he ducked behind a hedge. “I know you’re here.” All those people, fawning over John and Sherlock as if it was some bloody miracle.

“Of course I’m bloody well here. You didn’t think I’d let you leave things the way they were did you?” Greg grouched coming out to meet him. “Can’t we do this inside?” 

Mycroft sighed. “Gregory, you need to know some things.”

“What, My? Gonna tell me you only keep me around for your fucking heats again? Don’t do that to me, I know it’s a lie.” Greg snapped. 

Mycroft flinched. “That was not what I was going to say, no.” He ran a hand through his hair. Maybe this was all a mistake. Maybe he’d let sentiment cloud his vision for far too long.

“Just tell me what this is all about, Mycroft.” Greg sighed, rubbing at his eyes. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled earlier or just now, but god, you drive me crazy sometimes. It’s like we speak a different language.” 

“You’re a good man, Gregory. The best man I know,” said Mycroft softly. “I know that I have been singularly unfair to you.”

“A bit yeah, but I think it goes both ways,” Greg replied, catching his eye. “You know why I got so upset at least, right?” 

“Because of all this, yes?” He gestured at the house.

“Because your brother is getting engaged, after six months, My. And I was feeling frustrated, because you won’t even tell him, let alone your family that we’re together. Two years, Mycroft,” Greg said, grabbing his hand and stepping closer. “And everytime I try to talk about this, you run off.” 

Mycroft leaned against him and took a breath, leading Greg over to a bench and sitting them down. “It’s about to get more complicated.”

“Can you at least promise to not run off this time? Whatever it is, it can’t be so bad, since you’re here and in one piece.” Greg smiled, squeezing his hand.

Mycroft looked at their hands together, thought of how much Greg had been there, how little he really demanded. He took a breath and squared his jaw. “I’m pregnant.”

“You’re pregnant?” Greg repeated, jaw dropping. “You’re sure?” 

“Quite.” Mycroft bit his lip, still not looking at him. “And I’m a bit afraid.”

“Afraid of what?” Greg asked, raising his hand to Mycroft’s chin, tipping his face toward him. “You’re going to be a wonderful father.” 

Mycroft teared up as he looked into those kind brown eyes. “I can’t do it without you.”

“You won’t have to,” Greg said softly, reaching into his jacket. “I was an arse before, I know that. I came here to apologize. And I’d been planning this for a bit, so I figured, why not now.” He slid off the bench, falling to one knee.

“Yes, Gregory. And I will take your bondmark. But… this is Sherlock’s celebration.”

“Sod your bloody brother. I’ve been waiting for two years to ask, and you don’t even let me use the speech I prepared?” Greg teased, getting off the ground and cupping his face. “I want to bond you, Mycroft Holmes. I want you to wear my mark, my ring. I want to go to sleep and wake up next to you. Because of all the things in my life, you are quite possibly, the very best decision I have ever made. Since the first time you kidnapped me in that ridiculous car, since the first moment we actually spent talking to each other, it has been you,” Greg said softly, keeping his gaze. “And I want it to stay that way, forever.” 

“Gregory.” Mycroft wanted to say so much more. He hoped his face was showing all of it as he squeezed Greg’s hand.

“Still a ‘yes’?” Greg murmured, understanding everything Mycroft couldn’t make himself say. He leaned down, brushing their lips together with a gentle sigh as Mycroft’s mouth opened beneath him. 

“Very much yes,” breathed Mycroft, sharing his air.

“I love you, Mycroft Holmes, no matter how ridiculous we both are being.” 

"Always."

“Will I be staying here tonight?” Greg asked, reluctantly breaking the kiss that had started up. “Or do you want me to go back to London?” 

"Stay with me."

Greg smiled. "Of course." He sat down on the bench and tugged Mycroft close to his side. "It's a lovely garden," he said quietly. "The house is a bit much. Is that a ballroom?" 

“Yes. It’s been in family for many generations. I believed that Sherlock and John were faking their engagement, but I think that is no longer the case.”

"They were faking? Those bastards, I knew it," Greg snorted. "But not anymore? Finally said something to each other?"

“More than said,” Mycroft responded, wrinkling his nose. “I had to go fetch them for supper.”

"Oh, God you poor thing. Are you scarred for life now, hearing and smelling your little brother get up to such terrible things?" Greg teased, tucking Mycroft's head to his shoulder. "However shall I make you forget?" 

“I’m sure you can come up with something.” Mycroft picked up Greg’s hand and traced along the back of it. “Will you move in with me? I have the bigger place.”

"Won't have to twist my arm on that one," Greg replied. "Love your bed, hate my flat. Win-win situation." 

“I know. And I don’t know how yet how exactly my schedule will change with this pregnancy. God, Gregory, I’m nearly forty.”

"You'll be fine, love. I promise," Greg said softly, dropping a kiss to his head. "The baby couldn't ask for a better father, and I know you'll do everything to keep her happy and healthy." 

“Her?”

Greg flushed. "Well, maybe. Or him. But...couldn't you see a little girl running around, your big blue eyes and red curls. Freckles everywhere? Causing havoc with toy trucks and dolls. I bet you were the most gorgeous child." 

Mycroft gave a rueful smile. “I am certain Mummy could be convinced to break out the baby books.” He leaned in to kiss Greg and looked at the ring on his finger. “Come on, I best introduce you.”

"That one sentence is more terrifying than any other I've ever heard," Greg said kissing him and standing up.

“Just don’t let Aunt Lilah get ahold of you.” He took Greg’s arm and steered him inside.

**

"Sherlock, was that Lestrade?" John asked, mouth hanging open as they watched the pair enter, hidden as they were in the shadows of the balcony. "And did he just propose to Mycroft?" 

“Yes, it would appear so. Come on, let’s see how this plays out.” There was a twinkle in his eye.

"You're going to enjoy this, aren't you?" John murmured as they slipped back inside to watch the show.

Mycroft was well aware of the eyes turning on him as he walked in with an alpha none of them had seen before. He braced himself and held on tighter as Mummy swept over to them. 

“Mycroft, who is this?” She asked, eyes darting to the ring on his finger with a shrewd smile. 

"May I present Gregory Lestrade."

“Gregory Lestrade. The detective Sherlock works with, yes?” Mummy began to grin, crossing her arms and resting her pointer finger on her mouth. “As well as….” She waited for him to continue, their quiet conversation and the unknown alpha drawing the other members of the family closer.

"My alpha, yes Mummy." Mycroft never could handle being under her gaze. 

“And?” Mummy said quietly, eyes focused on his face.

"My fiancé and the father of my child," he spat out. 

Mummy’s grin went wide, and she grabbed for him, tugging him into her embrace. “Oh, Mycie! I’m so pleased. Why did you wait so long to tell us?” She asked accusingly, pulling back and glaring. 

"A number of reasons, Mummy. Isn't this supposed to be for Sherlock?"

“Oh, I know exactly what Sherlock and his alpha were thinking when they came here,” Mummy said with a twinkle in her eye. “About Sherlock, yes. For Sherlock, no. Family is for everyone. Including you, and whomever you decide to bring into the fold.” She reached out, and tugged Greg into her arms next, the alpha letting out a squeak of mingled terror and surprise. 

Mycroft retrieved his alpha and gently pulled him away. "I swear on the heavens above if you _ever_ call me Mycie you'll find yourself suddenly posted to Antarctica," he muttered. 

“I wouldn’t dare,” Greg said, a bit dazed at the whole encounter. “So, that’s your mum, is it? Do I dare meet your da?” 

"He's a much quieter omega and a musician. She's very much the dominant personality. "

“A musician? You’ve never said.” Greg swept his eyes around the room as Mycroft gestured, before lighting on a tall, thin man, sitting dreamy eyed at the piano in the corner. His hands tapped gently at the keys for a bit, and then he looked up, as if aware of Greg’s gaze. He smiled, and waved once, blue eyes twinkling. “You’ve got your father’s eyes,” Greg murmured quietly, looking at Mycroft and smiling. 

"He's a good man." Mycroft led Gregory over, smiled at his father and nudged him over on the bench so they could do a duet. 

Greg stood and watched quietly as they played, eyes only for Mycroft. Sherlock slid up quietly behind him, John at his side.

“Amazing isn’t he?” John asked quietly. “I’ve heard him play once before, didn’t know Mycroft could.” Greg nodded, ignoring Sherlock’s scoff. “So, congratulations are in order, then?” John continued. 

“Yeah,” Greg said softly. 

“Sherlock, what are you going to say to Greg?” John asked, teasingly looking at his omega.

"Congratulations. I had noticed Mycroft seemed out of sorts at supper."

Greg shrugged, giving a small grin. “We’d been fighting. And he’d been thinking too much as usual.” 

The rest of the family started to gather around as Mycroft and his father launched into another, even more complicated piece.

Greg watched, amazed at the way their fingers flew across the keys. When the piece was over, Mycroft and his father stood to a round of applause, the elder murmuring quietly to his son. Greg caught him smile, and then nudge Mycroft toward him. Greg held out his hand, waiting. 

Mycroft hesitated, then took Greg’s hand and pulled him into a gentle kiss, turning bright red in the process.

Greg smiled into the kiss, wrapping Mycroft in his embrace. “You’ve never played for me before,” he murmured. “We’ll have to do that more often, it was wonderful.” 

“I do have a piano at the house,” he admitted.

“Mhmm,” Greg agreed, squeezing his hands. “Now, what are the plans for the rest of the night, as I’m thinking we’re about to get swarmed with family members.” 

“We could retreat back to my room, if you liked.”

“Well, we shouldn’t be rude…” Greg murmured. “We’ll give it an hour, then make our escape.”  
He gave Mycroft’s hand one final squeeze, then turned to face the family.

**

After the hour had passed, Greg was more than happy to shut the door of Mycroft’s bedroom behind them with a groan. “I should have listened to you about Aunt Lilah.”

“No one outside the family ever believes us.”

“She is utterly, and completely, nerve wracking. Her eyes stared straight into my soul,” Greg replied, pulling Mycroft toward him. “I think she knew every dirty thing I’ve ever thought.” 

“I suppose this is where you tell me the apple doesn't fall far from the tree?”

“Something like that. Tell me, can you deduce what I’m thinking right now?” Greg purred, sliding his hands down to Mycroft’s arse. 

“Mmm, something that involves me on my stomach while you fill me repeatedly?”

“Wrong,” Greg said, glint in his eye as he stepped them back toward the bed. “But you’re getting warmer.” 

“Oh? What part did I get wrong?”

"Guess," Greg said, and pushed him onto the bed, straddling his waist and bending down to kiss him. 

“Do you want me to fuck you?” Mycroft knew how much Greg liked it when he swore.

"No, I want to ride your cock until I can't stand it anymore," Greg growled. "Then, I want to fuck you until we both come. Think you can hold out?" 

“Yes, sir,” said Mycroft, watching him with heated eyes.

"Good man," Greg smirked. "Now, scoot up." 

He tugged Mycroft’s trousers and pants down and nudged his legs apart, swallowing his cock down without preamble. 

Mycroft muffled his cry, not wanting to alert his entire family to just what he was up to.

"Hands over your mouth, lover." Greg mumbled. "Don't let them know. Though that ship might have left the harbor already," he said, pulling off, and kissing Mycroft's stomach. "Stole your innocence ages ago, didn't I, love?" He grinned, and shifted back up, palming his cock. "Please tell me there is lube somewhere. Oil? Anything?" 

“My bag,” he admitted with a blush.

“Dirty plans with you and your hand? Or did you bring a toy to help you get through the weekend?” Greg asked, smirking and going to fetch it. Mycroft pulled his shirt off as Greg rummaged in the bag. He pulled out a bottle, and tossed it onto the bed, shimmying out of his own clothes, one hand stroking his cock as he came over to the bed.

“I love your cock,” muttered Mycroft.

“Yeah,” Greg grinned, “I’m rather fond of it. Not as much as I like yours though.” He chuckled and climbed onto the bed, moving to hold above Mycroft on hands and knees, rutting their groins together. 

“You’re just glad I’m your omega, aren’t you?” Mycroft groaned. “Sucking me off in my car.”

“I love your car, love being on my knees in your car. Only for you,” Greg muttered, biting a mark into his shoulder. 

Mycroft groaned again. “You like it when I bend you over my desk too, don’t you. You filthy alpha.”

“Fuck, Mycroft. You gotta admit we’re well matched. You, me, your terrible mouth.” Greg groaned, pulling away. He opened the lube with shaky hands, coating his fingers and reaching back to open himself. “God, I love it,” he sighed, meeting Mycroft’s hungry gaze. 

“I love you.” said Mycroft. His eyes went wide as he realized what he’d just said.

Greg froze, movements stilling. “You...you’ve never said,” he stammered out. “I just…My,” he breathed, ducking down to press their lips together. “I love you so much, you ridiculous man,” he said, smiling against his lips. 

Mycroft kissed him back, rolling them over and taking the lube from him. “Let me.”

Greg nodded, spreading his legs as he watched Mycroft. 

“You’re the only one I want,” said Mycroft, opening him. “You’re patient, and kind, and clever. You’ll be an amazing father. I’ve just been...afraid…”

“What are you so afraid of, My?” Greg murmured, stroking a hand through his hair with a small gasp as Mycroft moved his fingers. 

“I can’t control the way you make me feel. I can’t control the way my heart skips when you smile at me. I can’t control how much I long for you when we’re apart for days or weeks.” Mycroft ducked his head and buried it against Greg’s shoulder. “I can’t control how much I need you in my life.”

“It’s okay. That’s normal,” Greg whispered, kissing his head. “I feel it, too.” 

“I know you love me. And that you have for a long time.”

“Since the first moment, even if I was too angry about being whisked away from my crime scene to admit it,” Greg murmured. “And I just hoped that one day, you’d be able to tell me the same.” 

“Apparently all it took was "knocking me up" and admitting our relationship in front of my family,” muttered Mycroft, moving between his legs.

“Well, we never were going to be a normal couple,” Greg smiled, stroking his cheek. “Considering, your alpha is on his back, about to beg for your cock.” 

“I couldn’t stand a normal alpha.” Mycroft pushed his small cock inside. “Remember my second heat? Fucking you with my own slick?”

“God, yes,” Greg breathed, dropping his head back to the pillows and rocking his hips. “You smelled so fucking good, tasted better.” 

“And the first time we made love outside of heat?”

“I didn’t want to be anywhere else, wanted no one else,” Greg replied, rolling them over so he was on top. “The way you looked the morning after, sun streaming in the windows, that was when I knew for sure, I never want to let you go.” 

“You were watching me sleep?”

“I didn’t want to wake you,” Greg said, rocking back on his cock. “You looked so..oh god, peaceful, My. Like you hadn’t slept in days.” 

“I never sleep well unless I’m with you.”

"From now on, every chance we get, I'll be right there beside you, love." 

"Always. Ride me harder."

"I love it when you ask nicely," Greg snorted, shifting his hips up and down with a vengeance. 

Mycroft clapped a hand over his own mouth, watching him.

"Don't let them hear, My," Greg whispered, ducking down to scent him. "Unless you want them to hear. Want everyone to know what we're doing up here." 

Mycroft moaned and offered his throat, cock aching as Greg rode him.

"You want me to bite you?" Greg murmured. "Next heat, I'm going to knot you, bond you. Everyone will know we belong together." 

Mycroft nodded. “I won’t have a heat when I’m pregnant. I want you bite me next time we’re in our bed.”

"That soon? Are you sure, love? You know I'd wait for you." Greg paused his motions, catching Mycroft’s eye. 

“I should have done it two years ago.”

“God, My. How are we so ridiculous?” Greg laughed, nearly a pant as he rolled his hips again. 

“It’s part of why we go so well together.” Mycroft reached over and started stroking his large cock.

“Oh, don’t do that,” Greg groaned. “Or I’ll pop off the second I get inside you.” 

“Is that so bad?”

“No,” Greg muttered. “But God, the feeling of being inside you, moving with you, it...there aren’t words, My.” 

“Try. Tell me, Gregory.”

“It’s physical, so physical in a sense. Tight around me, clenching around my cock. Sweat, slick, scent,” Greg panted, “But it’s more than that. It’s the way your, god, your eyes meet mine, and your voice when you talk to me, it washes over me. And when you come, and you tighten and cry out, I want to swallow you whole, take you far away somewhere it’s just us, and I can make us move together again and again. It scares me, how much I want you by my side, My.” Greg finished, thighs trembling as he moved atop Mycroft. “It’s terrifying, because if you asked, I’d leave everything for you.”

Mycroft’s heart stopped in his chest. “Oh Gregory,” he said, pulling him down for a kiss.

“Want you too much, My,” Greg mumbled into his mouth. “Too much.” 

“I want you too. Please, take me.”

“Okay,” Greg breathed, moving off, with shaky legs. “Hand me the lube.”

“You don’t need to.”

“What?” Greg paused, glancing him over. “Oh, My. You’ve been bad haven’t you?” He chuckled, bending down to kiss away Mycroft’s smirk as his hand drifted between the omega’s legs. “What’s this?” 

“Well I didn’t know you were going to appear in the garden,” muttered Mycroft.

“And you just wanted to be ready, for when you could slip away and deal with yourself? Sat there all through dinner, didn’t you?” Greg asked teasingly.

“And drinks in the ballroom afterward. I’m a naughty man, Gregory Lestrade.”

“You’re terrible,” Greg murmured, kissing him again as he eased the plug out, tossing it under the bed. 

Mycroft gasped at the gap left by it. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” Greg smiled, lining up. “Would you like me to show you how much?” 

“God, yes.”

Greg leaned down, kissing him as he pressed in, burying himself to hilt. 

Mycroft groaned loudly into his mouth, covering himself with his hand again as Greg pulled back with a smirk. He watched his alpha with wide eyes.

“Good?” 

Mycroft nodded, cock leaking heavily though he didn’t dare touch it.

“How do you want it? Fast, or slow?” Greg teased, holding himself perfectly still. 

“Whatever you think is best,” he panted.

“No,” Greg murmured, leaning down and tracing his lips over Mycroft’s throat. “You make the decision.” 

Mycroft gave a little whine. “I want you to. That’s my decision.”

“Nope,” Greg said, giving a little pop to the p. “Mycroft Holmes without an idea? Not possible.” He rocked his hips just a little, before falling still again. 

Mycroft let off a stream of profanity that would make a sailor blush.

“Tell. Me. What. You. Want.” Greg smirked, punctuating each word with a nip at Mycroft’s neck, chest, nipple. 

“For God’s sake fuck me, Gregory. Hard.”

“You wish is my command,” Greg said, clapping a hand over Mycroft's mouth as he drove in.

Mycroft shouted against his hand, eyes slamming shut as Greg took him just as hard as he liked, pushing him closer and closer to orgasm. 

“Come for me,” Greg growled, smirking down at him. “I know you want to.”

Mycroft came a heartbeat later, moaning lustily against Greg’s hand.

“That’s it,” Greg gasped, removing his hand and thrusting in once more. “God, the way you feel.” He groaned and dropped their heads together as he came, filling Mycroft. He stole another kiss, and pulled gently away, laying on the bed next to him. “My?” he asked quietly after a bit. 

“Yes?”

Greg hid his wide smile, preparing for Mycroft to smack him. “What we did just then...any chance you could get pregnant?” he asked, snorting at the end. 

Mycroft rolled his eyes. “That ship has already sailed.”

“Really? Had no idea,” Greg murmured, dropping down and pressing a gentle kiss to Mycroft’s stomach. 

“I could be lying you know. You haven’t actually seen the test results.”

Greg lifted his head. “You wouldn’t lie, not about this.”

“You’re right. I wouldn’t.” Mycroft fumbled for his mobile, pulled up a picture, and handed it to Greg.

“Oh,” Greg said quietly, staring at the picture. “Can I?” he asked, taking it in shaking hands. “That’s....her.” 

“Or him. I...debated texting it to you, but I didn’t know how angry you still were.”

“My, we did that,” Greg said, awestruck. “That was us. I can’t believe it…” 

“When I found out...Gregory I was so scared I’d have to do this alone, that I’d lost you for good this time.”

“Never, love.” Greg moved up, scenting at his neck. “We’ll fight. I’m sure of it. We’ll fight often. But never, ever will you lose me for good, as long as I am living.” 

Mycroft wrapped him in his arms. “I love you,” he said again in his ear.

**

Sherlock somewhat nervously looked at John as they got ready for bed. He knew it was expected that they’d share, but this was all new territory to him.

John smiled at him, sliding between the covers and patting the mattress. “Come on, honeybee. No need to worry, I can hear your brain buzzing all the way over here.” 

Sherlock blushed and slipped into bed, watching John.

John nuzzled closer, tucking his head into Sherlock’s chest with a satisfied sigh. “Alright?” 

“Yes, John. And apparently we are going to be Uncles.”

“Apparently,” John replied, smiling up at him. “You’re not disappointed your brother stole your thunder tonight are you?” 

Sherlock smirked. "Not at all."

“You’re relieved, aren’t you,” John said, poking him in the side. “Saved you from the attentions of your family.” 

"Also given that he's pregnant it puts less pressure on me to become so."

"Is that a good thing, love?" John asked, tilting his head up to examine Sherlock. "You know my opinion, but I never got yours." 

"I've never even been with an alpha. I'd rather clear that hurdle first."

"Well," John said, settling his head back down, "It is a bit of a prerequisite. Can't have one without the other." 

"You make me feel things, John."

John looked up at the tone of Sherlock's voice, low and rumbling. "Yeah?" 

"Indeed." Sherlock snuggled closer, running a hand down John's chest. "Though I still wonder how I didn't deduce they were together."

"Considering you don't listen when your brother speaks, and you can hardly remember Greg's name is Greg, I'm not surprised." 

Sherlock pouted at him.

"You're not seriously pouting, are you? You should know by now that that won't work." 

“Maybe you should distract me.”

"Oh?" John asked, interest perked. He shifted on the bed a bit, laying one leg over Sherlock's. "What did you have in mind?" 

“I...I like when you touch me.”

"And where would you like to be touched?" John asked, running his fingers over Sherlock's neck. "Here?" 

Sherlock purred and exposed his throat more.

"Is that the only place, Sherlock?" John asked with a smile, leaning forward and kissing his way over the pale skin. 

“All over,” he whispered, shifting at the sudden flush he felt from head to toe. He rolled onto his stomach as John’s hand moved farther down, and parted his legs.

"I think I can be convinced," John chuckled, and slid his hand down. He paused with a strange look on his face. "Sherlock, are you feeling alright?" 

“Bit warm.”

"Yeah. You're really wet, love. Sherlock? When is your next heat due?" 

“Not for another week.” Sherlock opened his eyes. “Early?”

"Might be..." John murmured, watching him carefully. "What do you wanna do?" 

“What we agreed would be okay,” said Sherlock, blushing and burying his face.

“Do you want to stay here, love? Everyone is in the house.” 

“Where are we going to go? If my heats already started…”

"You can't tell me there isn't some kind of servants place, or guest house on the property..." John replied moving up to scent his neck. "I mean, we can just lock the door. But I’d rather not have Aunt Lilah at the door giving me advice on my technique while I'm knotting you..." 

“Oh God,” muttered Sherlock. He forced himself up and took John’s hand, blushing as they walked past Mycroft’s room and he could hear them going at it.

"I hope Lilah hears them. Sounds like Greg's getting it. Maybe not though, I’d hate to see what she thinks of a submissive alpha." John said, shaking his head at Mycroft's door. "Where are we going?" 

“There is a small cottage off the garden for guests. We can see if it’s presently unoccupied.”

“All right, then.” Sherlock led John out of the house, sneaking through the silent kitchen, ignoring the clink of glassware and muffled voices of the still awake. They walked down the garden, past a line of rose bushes, and came upon a small cottage. “That’s it?” John asked, knocking on the door.

Sherlock’s father opened the door. He looked them up and down, eyes going a bit wide, and then he gave them a knowing smile, stepping aside so they could take the cottage

“Thank you, sir,” John said awkwardly. 

He gave a nod and smile and set off for the house. Sherlock watched him go, then tugged John inside.

“Okay, love, I’m coming,” John said, allowing himself to be pulled in. Sherlock kept them moving until they ended up at the back end of the cottage in a small, comfortable bedroom. “This is nice,” John murmured, tucking himself into Sherlock’s side, brushing a hand over his hip comfortingly. 

Sherlock moaned softly and leaned in to kiss him gently, tugging him to the bedroom.

John stepped them backwards until his knees hit the back of the bed. He sat and tugged Sherlock onto his lap, still kissing as he twisted his hands in Sherlock’s hair.

Sherlock groaned, a definite blush of heat washing over him. He started rutting against John's lap. 

"Not yet, sweetheart," John said, pushing him back and pulling at his shirt. "Clothes off first, before we lose it." 

Sherlock whined, but tugged at his clothes 

John managed to pull their shirts off, then with hands sliding under the waistband of Sherlock’s sleep trousers tugged them down around his thighs. "Up love, gotta get them off." 

Sherlock obeyed, crawling naked into the bed as soon as he could. 

John stood, shedding his own bottoms and crawling up to cover Sherlock’s body with his own, cupping his face for a kiss.

“It’s you, John Watson,” murmured Sherlock. “Do you have any idea how often I’ve taken my heat alone, thinking of you?”

“Tell me,” John said, scenting his neck. 

“Every time since you came into my life. Hands and knees, fucking myself with my favorite toy, imaging it was your cock.” 

“Christ, love.” John groaned. “Every time you went into heat, I was this close to begging you to let me stay, let me help you through.” 

“I never thought you wanted to. You were so careful not to touch me.”

“Didn’t think you wanted me either. Didn’t want to force you into anything, scare you.” John murmured, mouthing over his chest, dropping a hand down between Sherlock’s legs. 

Sherlock moaned and spread his legs. “Show me, John. Show me how good it can be.”

“Yes, love. I’ve got you,” John replied, sliding two fingers into Sherlock’s entrance. 

Sherlock gasped, almost overwhelmed. “John!”

“I know, breathe for me. It’s so different when you’re with someone else, isn’t it?” John murmured, kissing him as he shifted his fingers. 

"Good..."

“It’s going to get better, love,” John said, slipping a third finger in. “You’re already so wet, so stretched for me. You want more?”

"Please, oh God. More..."

"Shh, love. You want my knot. Don't you?" John said, shifting down. "You have to turn over sweetheart. Present yourself so we can bond when I knot you." He nudged at Sherlock’s thighs, the skin glistening with slick. 

Sherlock groaned and obeyed his alpha. "Yes, John."

"You're doing well Sherlock," John said, stroking his hand across his lower back as he lined up. "I'm gonna press in now, sweetheart." 

Sherlock braced his legs, already moaning as John started to press in. He felt so full and he’d only barely begun.

"Do you need me to slow down, love?" John asked, slowing his push. 

Sherlock shook his head, pressing back.

"All right." John thrust in until only his knot was left outside Sherlock's body. "There, sweetheart. That's it." 

Sherlock groaned. “So full, so good.” He tried to focus on breathing.

John slid his hands up, placing them over Sherlock’s, and rocking gently. "Hey, Sherlock. Breathe for me, c'mon, relax." 

Moaning softly, Sherlock relaxed underneath him slowly. “Move, please.”

"Yes, love. Anything." 

Suddenly John’s shifting hit a spot that made Sherlock’s world light up. He keened loudly, squeezing around his lover.

"That it?" John asked, pressing in again. "Want more?" 

Sherlock whimpered, shaking with pleasure.

John groaned as Sherlock tightened around him, body pulling him in. His knot was pressing against his entrance already. 

Sherlock's breath caught as he felt the knot. He was stretched so far already, how could there be more. 

"You'll be able to take it, promise." John murmured, scenting his fear. "You were made for this beautiful. So good for me." 

With another deep breath, taking in the scent of John, of alpha, he lowered his head in submission and relaxed the final inch.

John lowered his mouth and with one final press, sunk his knot into Sherlock, biting down. 

Sherlock cried out, writhing on John’s cock, feeling the pleasure of the bond flaming down his veins.

John pressed Sherlock down to the bed, stilling his body as he licked over their mark. "Got you, you're fine, so good," he panted, as he filled Sherlock with his seed. "Take me so well." 

Sherlock moaned loudly, so glad for his alpha above him.

**

Early the next morning, Greg slipped into the kitchen, only to find John gathering some things. He smelled more like Sherlock than he usually did….and something else…. “Sherlock go into heat?” he asked quietly.

"Christ!" John said, jumping and smacking his head on the freezer door. "Oh. Greg. Uh, yeah. Just getting food and water before he wakes up." He rubbed his head, looking Greg over. "Trying to avoid Aunt Lilah, she was lurking about. You uh....congratulations, by the way, but ah...you limping?" John asked warily. 

“Nothing major, just getting some ice and thought maybe I’d bring Mycroft some tea. And congratulations to you too.” Greg smiled knowingly. 

"Right." John cleared his throat and stepped away from the fridge with an armful of food. "Thanks. I'll just uh..." They made awkward eye contact for a moment then froze at the sound of a cane tapping down the the stairs. "Aunt Lilah," John said hoarsely, then nodded sharply. "Good luck!" he said, and bolted for the far door. 

“Hey, don’t leave me here!” Greg darted after him, catching a jar that slipped from John’s grasp before it could hit the floor.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! You can find us on AO3 at [Janto321 ](http://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/)and [HumsHappily](http://archiveofourown.org/users/humshappily) or on tumblr at [merindab ](http://merindab.tumblr.com)(janto321) and [HumsHappily](http://hums-happily.tumblr.com)!


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